The Idea of You
by Maribells
Summary: My take on pre-S1 CB. Alternatively titled, "10 Times Blair Gave Chuck a Boner Before He Finally Got It In." Rated T/M.
1. The Beach

**A/N:** This scene is set during the summer after their freshman year. It's inspired by a brief flashback I described in the "The Unforgettable Fire", but reading that story isn't necessary to follow this one.

**Chapter 1: The Beach**

**June 2006**

"Sure you don't want some, Blair?" Serena said, offering the joint pinched between her thumb and forefinger. She dodged Chuck's attempt to grab it, holding her hand just out of his reach.

Barely looking up from her Blackberry, Blair shook her head.

"I'm good, thanks," she replied.

A gust of wind blew sand across her towel, and she brushed it off with more force than necessary. She'd been adamantly opposed to a late night beach excursion, and she was making no effort to hide her irritation at having been outvoted.

"Come on, B, give it a try," Serena coaxed. "Who knows, you might even like it."

"You know the smell makes me nauseous," Blair said shortly. "And as for the neurological effects..."

She rolled her eyes in the direction of her boyfriend, who was leaning against the side of the lifeguard tower, illuminated by the full moon overhead. His handsome features were slackened in relaxation, his blue eyes glassy and unfocused.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, she returned her attention to her phone.

Chuck snorted, plucking the joint from Serena's outstretched fingers.

"Give it up, Serena, she's never going to get high with us," he commented dryly. "Or anything else that might require actually unwadding her panties."

Blair's eyes snapped upwards, fixing him with an icy glare- which he returned with a smirk, completely unfazed.

"Whatever sick fantasies you're having about my panties, Bass, keep them to yourself," she replied.

Taking a long drag, Chuck pursed his lips and blew out a ring of smoke in her direction, grinning when she winced in disgust and waved the smoke away with one hand.

He had to admit, he enjoyed riling Blair up. Most of the people in her life were terrified of her, including his best friend, so he preferred to make it clear that he wasn't intimidated in the slightest. Besides, he found it amusing when she got all indignant and huffy.

"I just think you might have more fun if you weren't... desperately trying to not have fun all the time," he returned in a patronizing tone.

Blair sighed, rolling her eyes. "If you're suggesting that I might enjoy my slow-witted company more if I lowered myself to the same level..." She paused, casting a disparaging look towards Nate and Serena, who had grown bored with their banter and were now entertaining themselves by making monkey faces at each other. "Not worth it," she concluded derisively.

Chuck glanced over at their companions with a similarly skeptical expression. Nate had rolled his tongue into a perfect circle and crossed his eyes, and Serena was attempting to imitate him in between bursts of giggles.

"Give it up, van der Woodsen, you can't do it." Nate laughed, watching Serena's futile attempt to curl her tongue up at the corners.

"I can too!" she insisted.

"It's genetic, Serena," Blair pointed out.

"You just have no faith in me, B," Serena declared.

She made another valiant attempt, her face contorting comically from the effort.

"I'm sure the laws of biology have nothing on Serena van der Woodsen," Chuck added sardonically.

With considerable assistance from her fingers, Serena finally managed to make a circle out of her tongue. Smiling triumphantly at her accomplishment, she stole the joint back out of Chuck's hands and took another drag.

"Ooh, you know what would be fun?" she said excitedly, blowing out a puff of smoke. "We should go for a swim!"

"In the ocean?" Blair replied in disbelief, looking towards the dark, vaguely ominous-looking waves. "Serena, it's the middle of the night."

"Come on, B, don't be such a buzzkill," Serena chided her.

"And the water's freezing, and we don't have swimsuits," Blair continued, watching in growing alarm as her best friend stood up, clearly intent on her mission.

"So?" Serena shrugged. "It's more fun without them," she added with a mischievous wag of her eyebrows, passing the joint off to Nate.

"No way," he said, watching incredulously as Serena stripped her tank top over her head and began unbuttoning her shorts.

"That sounds like a dare," Serena replied in a singsong voice. After pushing her shorts to the ground and stepping out of them, she reached her arms around her back to unhook her bra.

Nate gaped at her, the forgotten joint dangling in his fingers as she discarded her bra and panties as well.

Chuck watched her little striptease with equal parts amusement and appreciation. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before- hell, it wasn't anything most people who'd gotten a couple of drinks into Serena hadn't seen before- but she still put on a damn fine show.

He glanced over at Blair, expecting her to say something cutting to Serena at any moment, but she was just sitting there, watching her best friend with horrified eyes. She tucked her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, as if shielding herself from the inappropriateness.

Nate just watched with a dumbfounded expression as Serena took off naked, running towards the water and calling over her shoulder for them to follow. Stubbing out his joint in the sand, he rose slowly to his feet, holding onto the lifeguard stand with one hand while he removed his flip-flops.

"You _cannot_ be serious," Blair groaned.

"Come on Blair, loosen up," he replied, stripping off his plaid shirt to reveal the muscled torso beneath. "Besides, we can't just leave her alone out there."

"And how exactly am I supposed to rescue _both_ of you from drowning?" she retorted, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I guess you'll just have to come in too!" he said with a boyish grin. He removed his shorts, tossing them onto the towel next to her before jogging towards the water in his boxers.

"Oh my God, I am surrounded by _idiots_," Blair griped. She retrieved her phone and pretended to be engrossed in a game of Snake.

Serena shrieked as an unexpected wave knocked her sideways, toppling her over in the waist-deep water. Regaining her footing, she turned and jumped headfirst into the next one, padding furiously towards deeper water. Nate sputtered with laughter, swiping his hair back off his forehead, before following behind her.

"I mean it, I am _not _coming in there after you!" Blair called after them, and made a huffy grumbling noise under her breath.

She suddenly noticed that Chuck had risen to his feet beside her and had begun unbuttoning his shorts.

"Seriously? You're just going to leave me here all alone?" she asked in disbelief.

Chuck shot Blair a skeptical look. She'd barely spoken to him all evening, only deigning to acknowledge his presence when she wanted to bitch at him about something.

"Well, as much as I'm enjoying the _pleasure_ of your company..." he replied dryly. "I go where the action is."

And with that, he stripped off his shorts and polo shirt, hanging them on the side of the lifeguard stand. Clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, he sauntered towards the shoreline.

He watched the inky-blue waves for a moment, their white-capped swells breaking over the sand in a steady rhythm. There was something peaceful about that cadence, the continuous push and pull of the tide against the shoreline. The ocean was as close to nature as he ever got, and frankly he preferred things that way, but he did harbor a certain appreciation for its charms.

Plus, it currently contained a hot naked chick who was stoned off her ass, so he figured if he played his cards right, he might be able to finagle at least a hand job out of this situation.

Spotting Nate and Serena bobbing around in the chest-deep water, their blond heads illuminated by the moonlight, he slowly made his way out to join them. He shivered a little as the chilly water reached his navel, resolving to keep his night-swimming to heated pools in the future.

"Hey dude," Nate called out. "Please tell me you kept your underwear on."

Chuck smirked.

"Of course," he replied. "I wouldn't want to make you feel... inadequate."

Nate took a moment to recognize the implication and then shot him a glare, which was somewhat lacking in vehemence due to the glazed-over look in his eyes.

"Aww, don't be an asshole, Chuck," Serena reprimanded him. "I'm sure Nate is... perfectly adequate," she added with a giggle.

Flipping onto her back, she splashed both of them in the face with a quick flutter of her feet. Nate laughed, wiping the droplets of water from his eyes as he watched her swim off- rather intently, Chuck noticed.

Well, it's not like he could really blame the guy. He'd spent his entire adolescence shackled to an uptight princess who showed no signs of relinquishing her V-card any time soon.

Turning his head back towards the shore, he noticed that Blair had gotten up and walked over to the water's edge. She stood there, arms folded across her chest, observing them with a pissy expression on her face.

He would never, ever get the appeal of relationships, he thought to himself. If he wanted to get nagged to death, he'd just stop going to classes entirely instead of placating Bart with an attendance record that was marginally adequate.

The only possible upside to having a girlfriend was that it provided regular access to sex. He supposed that might come in handy for guys who weren't capable of accomplishing that on their own, but Nate had been stuck at second base for more than four years now. And Chuck had yet to meet a girl who was worth waiting even a few hours to get into bed.

"You know there have been sharks sighted off this beach," Blair yelled after them.

"You know... I think I just saw one!" Serena giggled, pressing her hands together into a pretend shark fin and humming the theme song to "Jaws". The boys laughed as she dove beneath the water and slowly circled them, long strands of blond hair flowing out behind her, before returning to the surface with an exaggerated chomping sound.

Blair just muttered something under her breath and turned to walk along the shoreline, pretending to ignore them once again.

Chuck rolled over to float on his back, enjoying the rhythmic motion of the waves underneath him- but he found his eyes following Blair as she strolled along the beach. She paused to draw a little design in the sand with her toes, peeking up through her lashes to covertly study the three of them. A melancholy expression crossed her face before she cast her gaze back downwards.

He glanced over towards Nate, rolling his eyes when he saw him staring at Serena as if the sun were shining out of her ass... or, more accurately, her chest. Sure, he might deserve the opportunity to ogle a naked woman now and then, but he didn't have to be quite so obvious about it. If he was going to stare at another girl's tits in front of his girlfriend, he could at least be courteous enough to use his peripheral vision.

Looking back at Blair, he was surprised to see her standing closer to the crashing waves, staring pensively out across the water. She toyed with the hem of her flowered sundress, looking uncertain for a moment. Then in an instant, the uncertainty was replaced with decisiveness. Grasping the cotton fabric with both hands, she pulled the dress up over her head.

And at that, Chuck's lips parted in surprise, his lower body sinking from the surface as he forgot to keep himself afloat. Unless his brain was totally fucking with him right now, Blair Waldorf was actually taking off her clothes in a semi-public place.

Feeling a momentary flash of guilt for even looking, he glanced back towards Nate- only to realize that he and Serena had moved past him, further out into the sea. They seem engrossed in some sort of synchronized swimming competition, although they kept getting distracted by splashing each other and giggling.

Allowing himself another furtive look in Blair's direction, he saw her carefully folding her dress, smoothing it into a neat, wrinkle-free parcel, and stacking it atop her sandals, before placing them just out of reach of the advancing waves.

_Way to let your hair down, Waldorf_, he thought to himself with a smirk.

But when she turned back towards the water, his breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a demure little bra and panty set- white cotton decorated with pink bows- that should have exuded modesty and innocence. But instead, it only emphasized the curve of her hips, her slender waist, and the rounded slopes of her breasts, separated by a little pink bow nestled between them.

He was very fond of that bow, he decided.

He didn't know if it was the moonlight reflecting off her ivory skin and glossy brown curls, or the fact that he really shouldn't have been watching her at all- but he suddenly found himself more mesmerized than he'd ever been by the scantily-clad, overtly sexy women who typically threw themselves at him.

Blair took several cautious steps towards the water, gasping and hopping backwards when the first icy swell lapped over her feet... and then glaring at it, as if it were the water's fault that it was cold. Assuming a look of determination, she took another few steps forward, squealing as an unexpected wave crashed against her body.

And Chuck's mouth went dry when he realized that her sweet, innocent little lingerie set had become completely transparent. He could see taut rosy nipples, straining against the wet fabric, and the outline of dark curls narrowing to a V between her legs.

Even the frigid water couldn't prevent the rush of blood to his groin.

His brain, meanwhile, began bombarding him with enticing images, imagining how he could divest her of that makeshift swimsuit entirely.

He pictured his hands peeling away the damp fabric and cupping her pert little breasts, his head lowering to take one tight bud into his mouth. Her hands, tangling into his hair as she arched herself into him. Her lips, parting to emit a gasp of pleasure when she felt his hardness throbbing against her.

Then he'd strip away her panties, threading his fingers through those moist curls between her thighs, making sure she was good and wet before burying himself inside of her-

Jesus Christ, he thought, giving his head a rough shake. What the fuck was he doing? Sexual fantasies about the one girl who was strictly off-limits to him could only lead to one thing- getting punched in the face.

But the object of those fantasies was currently paddling straight towards him, and he needed to do something to keep her away until he managed to... regain control of himself. His usual pervy innuendos were one thing, but a full-on raging boner was quite another. If she noticed, she would never, ever let him live it down.

"Well well, look who decided to finally have a little fun," he commented, hoping his voice wasn't as strained as it felt.

Blair raised her eyebrows haughtily, as if she had no idea what he was talking about, and paused to get her footing on the sandy bottom. The water lapped around the edges of her bra, and he struggled to keep his eyes from following its path.

"This water is _freezing_," she complained. "Why did anyone think this was a good idea?"

She looked over his shoulder to see Serena performing a warbling rendition of "Under the Sea", complete with what appeared to be an imitation of a mermaid.

"Never mind." She rolled her eyes. "I forgot I'm the only one here functioning at full capacity right now."

She turned back towards him, clearly expecting a witty comeback. His mind raced to come up with a way to get rid of her before she noticed his... physical situation.

"Waldorf-" he began, smirking at her jaded sigh. "You do realize what happens to white fabric when it gets wet?"

She blinked at him for a moment before following his downward glance, and a sudden surge of color reddened her cheeks.

"Ugh, do you have to be so... disgusting?" she snapped, her hands quickly moving to shield her chest.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he returned sardonically.

He grinned as she started paddling backwards, attempting to put distance between them as quickly as possible.

"I was just complimenting your choice of attire," he called after her, laughing at the indignant grumbles coming from her retreating figure.

Problem one, solved, he thought. Problem two- he glanced down- still needed some time.

Well, this is what he got for going several days without getting laid.

There was no other possible explanation, he concluded, giving his head another quick shake. It had to be a case of sex deprivation.

After all, even if Blair were available- which she most definitely was not- she was hardly suitable for his usual female-related activities. But as long as he kept his libido satisfied and she kept her clothes on, this would remain nothing more than an isolated incident.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I'm thinking of continuing this as a series of flashbacks, leading up to the moment we all know and love :) I'm not abandoning TUF, of course, this is more of a side project/companion piece. Drop me a review if you enjoyed and want to read more!

Thanks so much to Terrabeth, both for betaing and for giving me the inspiration to write this story.


	2. The Birthday Party

.

**Chapter 2: The Birthday Party**

**July 2006**

The van der Woodsen penthouse was lavishly decorated in shades of pale gold and ivory, with every available railing, column and archway adorned with tasteful streamers and balloons. Uniformed caterers circulated through the crowd, carrying hors d'oevres and champagne flutes perched atop their trays. An elaborate swan-shaped ice sculpture towered over the center table, which also held a three-tiered cake, the smooth fondant coating embellished with a gold filigree pattern. And the whole scene was lit by the colorful rays of a sunset streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The decorations were really more suited to a wedding than a 15-year-old's birthday party- but anything hosted by Lily van der Woodsen would be an elegant event, no matter the occasion.

Chuck handed his gift off to the attendant, briefly considering whether he should've bothered to ask what it was. He'd sent Arthur to the perfume counter at Bergdorf's to pick up something appropriate, as was his standard gift-giving routine- and his actual present for Serena was in his inside jacket pocket anyway, safely ensconced in a little plastic baggie.

"Charles, welcome!" Lily greeted him with a warm clasp of her hand. "Lovely to see you. How is your father?"

"Fine, as far as I know," Chuck replied, shrugging his shoulders. Between his month in the Hamptons, and Bart's frequent business trips, he hadn't seen his father in almost five weeks.

"Well, do tell him I said hello," she continued, perfect society smile in place. "Serena should be down in just a moment, she had some sort of... shoe-related emergency." She laughed and gave her head a little shake before moving on to greet the next guest.

Strolling through the crowd, Chuck retrieved a glass of champagne and a canapé from a passing waiter. He took a moment to survey the other partygoers, his gaze settling on a shapely blonde in a low-cut dress who appeared to be a good prospect for late-night entertainment.

After identifying a few secondary options, he felt satisfied with his odds, and headed in Nate's direction.

"Nathaniel," he greeted his friend. "Missed you at the club today."

He'd played squash with Serena's brother instead, but the 13-year-old hadn't posed much of a challenge.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I had some... last minute shopping to do," Nate explained, gesturing at the party around them.

Chuck nodded, taking a sip of his champagne. "Get anything good?"

"Oh, just this, uh... bracelet, I thought it was pretty." Nate shrugged sheepishly. "I just hope she likes it."

"Well, it's Serena." Chuck smirked. "As long as it's shiny and has a bow on it, I'm sure she'll love it."

A noticeable murmur ran through the crowd, a ripple of heads turning to see Serena descending the staircase. The shoe crisis in question appeared to have been resolved, as her long legs were highlighted by a pair of strappy blue sandals and a flirty little mini-dress, the blue and white floral pattern emphasizing the golden tan of her skin. Her blonde waves bounced around her shoulders and she smiled brightly, knowing every eye in the room was on her.

Blair soon followed down the steps, her prim, composed exterior contrasting sharply with Serena's effortless radiance. She wore a lacy Valentino cocktail dress in layered shades of mauve and taupe, the ruffles at the neckline and hem giving a certain old-fashioned elegance to her appearance. Pearls accented her ears and throat, and she'd styled her hair into a loose updo, only a few stray tendrils curling around to frame her face.

She should wear her hair like that more often, Chuck decided, eying the ivory curve of her neck.

For a brief moment, his thoughts wandered off into dangerous territory- before they were suddenly interrupted by the clinking of silver against a champagne flute.

Lily cleared her throat, looking over the room with a smile.

"Welcome everyone!" she said. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming to celebrate my beautiful daughter on her special day." She raised her glass in the direction of Serena, who was visibly glowing as the center of everyone's attention. "Now I'm going to give you all a chance to enjoy yourselves without all of this... adult supervision."

The crowd of teenagers chuckled in appreciation.

"So please, have some cake." She gestured towards the center table, where caterers were plating the elaborate dessert.

"And behave yourselves, of course," she added with an indulgent smile.

Waiters began circulating, offering slices of the chocolate and vanilla-buttercream confection. Blair gave a little shake of her head when a plate was held out towards her, and watched disapprovingly as Nate demolished his piece in about two bites.

"Mmm," Serena made a satisfied noise as she licked some frosting off of her finger, drawing the attention of most males in the vicinity.

"Wow, your mom's giving us the penthouse to ourselves for the night?" Nate asked, sounding impressed. "That's pretty sweet."

Serena rolled her eyes.

"She has a date," she explained. "Some Danish... investment banker, or something, I think they're going to the opera."

"So I guess her 'single empowered woman' phase didn't last long then," Blair commented dryly. "How long has it been now?"

"About... two months," Serena replied with a laugh. "I just wish she'd date someone American, at least, I'm getting really sick of spending holidays in Europe."

She looked a little gloomy for a moment, before her gaze caught on the centerpiece and her expression suddenly brightened.

"Oh my God, I just had the best idea!" She jumped to her feet and headed towards the dining room.

"This rarely ends well," Blair muttered, taking a sip of her champagne.

"I disagree, I think it usually ends... fabulously." Chuck grinned, raising his eyebrows at Nate, who paused halfway through his second piece of cake to nod enthusiastically.

Blair responded with an exaggerated sigh, turning to survey the other occupants of the room. They were mostly students from Constance/St. Judes, Horace Mann, or Spence, with the occasional boarding school refugee- and almost all of them were children of their parent's friends, kids they'd been socializing with for the better part of a decade.

There was, however, one notable exception.

"Who is _that_?" Blair's eyes narrowed on an awkward dark-haired boy, hanging around uncomfortably on the outskirts of the crowd. He did look vaguely familiar, but he certainly wasn't a regular member of their social circle.

Chuck shrugged.

"Ask Serena, it's her party," he replied.

"Is he wearing... _Dockers_?" Blair asked in disbelief.

Chuck cast a disparaging look over the khakis in question. The brand name was the least of that kid's problems, he concluded, eying the double front pleats and inch of sock visible below the too-short inseam.

Poor or not, there was never an excuse for pleated pants. He smoothed down the front of his linen trousers with a shudder.

"The more important question is-" he said smoothly, reaching across the breakfast bar to grab a spare bottle of champagne. "Isn't it about time we kicked this party up a notch?"

Blair rolled her eyes, but didn't protest when he filled her flute to the brim.

He observed her over the rim of his own glass, watching her glossy pink lips purse and the bubbly liquid flow over them. As long as he kept it covert, he figured there was no harm in a few stealthy glances. After all, he checked out every other female in the vicinity- _not_ doing the same to Blair would be out of character, implying that there was something... special about her. And there was certainly nothing special about her.

"Alright, who wants a shot?" Serena's cheerful voice rang out as she reemerged from the dining room, brandishing a bottle of vodka.

A cheer rose from the crowd of teenagers. Most of the male guests practically tripped over themselves in their eagerness to participate, and Kati, Iz and Penelope soon followed.

"Let's put this thing to good use!" she announced, patting the giant frozen swan on its icy neck. "Who's up first?"

Serena tipped the bottle along the top of the sculpture, motioning for Kati to take position at the beak.

And with that, the giant winged sculpture became a vodka ice luge. Chuck watched in amusement as his classmates lined up to take turns, quickly transforming the party from a classy, sedate affair into a one that would be more appropriate at a college frat house. The other partygoers gathered to watch, flashing cell phone cameras indicating that pictures were already on their way to Gossip Girl.

Cheering on his lacrosse teammates and slurping down more than a few shots himself, Nate was clearly in his element. Blair, however, remained exactly where she was, watching the festivities with a disdainful expression.

"Not gonna take a turn, Waldorf?" Chuck asked, knowing perfectly well that she wouldn't.

"I'm sure I can find a more efficient way to get alcohol into my mouth," Blair replied dryly, taking another sip of her drink.

After a beat of silence, she turned to look at him, rolling her eyes at his lecherous grin.

"Ugh, just say it."

"I can find a more efficient way to get a lot of things into your mouth-" he began, laughing when she smacked him on the arm.

"You're so heinous." She sighed. "Some of us are actually trying to _not_ get herpes, Bass. That poor swan has been licked by half the sophomore class by now."

Chuck raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not unlike-"

"Yes, I get it, you're a pig," she interrupted him, shaking her head briskly- although he glimpsed the hint of a smile lingering on her lips.

Glancing back towards the raucous crowd, he spotted a scantily-dressed redhead by Serena's side, beckoning him over with an unmistakable come-hither expression.

"Looks like someone wants you to join in the fun," Blair said with feigned innocence, concealing a smirk behind the rim of her glass.

Chuck groaned under his breath.

"Three years and that girl still can't take a hint," he muttered, averting his gaze.

"What, you don't want to relive the magical moment of your deflowering?" Blair asked in a mocking tone.

"Only because I don't want to wake up in a bathtub of ice missing both of my kidneys," he replied sardonically, swirling the bubbly liquid in his glass.

"Well, you have only yourself to blame," Blair countered. "It's not like Georgina's psychosis was some well-guarded secret even back then."

He studied her derisive smile for a moment, deciding that she was taking far too much enjoyment in his discomfort.

"Well, I can't say I blame her," he mused, assuming a thoughtful expression. "Clearly she wants the kind of satisfaction that can only be provided by a good deep-"

"Okay, okay," Blair interrupted, rolling her eyes. "If we were having some kind of perv-off that I didn't know about... you win."

He smirked after her, watching lace and chiffon move across the rounded curves of her ass as she stalked away.

"Well, well, looks like we've got ourselves an empty bottle here," Serena declared. Swinging the bottle above her head, she regarded the guests with a suggestive grin. "So... who wants to give it a spin?"

Appreciative hoots and whistles echoed through the small crowd, and Serena turned to lead them towards the dining room- almost running into the quiet, dark-haired boy who'd been standing a few feet behind her.

Tilting her head, she studied his face for a moment, as if trying to place him.

"Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Serena," she introduced herself. He stared back wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights of her beaming smile.

"I know- I mean... I'm... Dan," he stuttered, looking as though he may have actually forgotten his own name for a moment.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dan," She smiled brightly at him, twirling the bottle around in her hand. "So are you gonna come play with us?"

His mouth dropped open for a moment before he swallowed and cleared his throat. "Umm... sure, yeah... definitely."

"Alright, circle up everyone!" she announced, walking to the center of the dining room and leaning down to place the bottle on its side.

A small contingent eagerly took up positions around her, while other partygoers hung back, chatting amongst themselves and watching the proceedings.

Chuck noticed two of his three potentials had joined in the game. Figuring this might prove useful in finalizing his decision, he sat down next to Nate. The kid in the unfortunate pants, he observed, had taken a seat at Serena's right elbow. He seemed to be trying his best to not openly stare at her- and failing miserably.

At that moment, Serena spotted Blair trying to sneak out the back of the room undetected.

"Uh-uh, not so fast, B!" She jumped up and chased down her friend, grabbing her by the arm.

"Serena, I was just going to the bathroom... and I'm not really... in the mood to play... "

But her protests were in vain as Serena dragged her back, depositing her unceremoniously along the side of the circle. Blair sighed and tucked her skirt carefully around her legs, looking resigned.

"Don't worry, B, I'll exempt you from kissing any girls, if that's what you're all uptight about," Serena reassured her, before crawling to the center to give the bottle a twirl.

"Way to ruin half the fun of the game, van der Woodsen," Chuck drawled, eliciting grins from most of the male players.

The bottle continued spinning, making slower and slower revolutions on the polished wood floor until it finally came to a stop... pointing directly at Nate.

He shrugged sheepishly before crawling out towards the center of the circle. Serena giggled, placing her hands on his shoulders and kissing him soundly on the mouth, egged on by whistles and clapping from the peanut gallery.

Chuck glanced over at Blair, who appeared totally nonchalant- only a slight tensing of her mouth and the aversion of her eyes indicated otherwise.

"Alright, your turn!" Serena said merrily, crawling back to her position next to Blair and watching the proceedings with enthusiasm.

Nate's spin landed on Penelope, who seemed more than eager to comply.

Her spin then landed on a very uncomfortable Eric, who'd been dragged into the game by his sister's insistence.

"Aww, he's growing up so fast," Serena cooed, and pretended to shield her eyes from Eric and Penelope's awkward lip-lock.

Eric's spin landed on Serena, who gave him a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek that elicited a chorus of "awws" from the circle. Serena's turn ended in a lengthy kiss with Quinn- a significantly raunchier version of the one she'd given Nate- and his spin subsequently landed on Georgina.

Chuck snapped to attention when he realized that the redhead was now in the center of the circle, eying him with the kind of bunny-boiling intensity that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He watched the bottle rotate with almost sick fascination, half-afraid she might be able to aim it at him with the power of her mind. He had no doubt that the girl would eat his face off, given the opportunity.

Fortunately it landed on some other unlucky soul, and he allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief. His eyes met Blair's and she gave him a little smirk, clearly reading his thoughts.

Well, hopefully not all of them, he thought, his gaze drifting downwards to the ruffled fabric that had ridden partway up her thighs. He wondered if her legs had always looked that tempting, or if he'd only started noticing them after their little nightswimming adventure.

Either way, they'd somehow become a regular fixture in his sexual fantasy rotation. Just the thought of those slim thighs wrapped around his waist was enough to get him hard in a matter of seconds.

Shifting uncomfortably, Chuck decided that this might be a good time to excuse himself and partake in a little... herbal relaxation.

But before he could do so, he suddenly noticed that the bottle was now pointing at Blair. She dutifully leaned forward, bestowing a demure peck on the waiting lips of one of Nate's lacrosse teammates. Serena cheered and clapped enthusiastically, while Blair rolled her eyes, her cheeks tinting slightly pink.

Heaving a sigh, as if this whole game were beneath her, she moved into the center of the circle and gave the bottle a hard spin.

Well, he could stay for another minute, he figured. Just because he liked seeing her get all flustered and embarrassed. Definitely not because he was hoping it would land on him.

Which it did.

Blair raised her eyes from the neck of the bottle, blinking in surprise when she recognized the target. She looked perturbed for only a moment before she narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the crowd whooping in appreciation around them.

"No funny business, Bass," she said suspiciously. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he responded with mock indignation, holding his palms up as if she were arresting him.

She crawled the several feet towards him, and he found himself staring directly into her eyes- mostly to prevent himself from staring at her breasts, which were increasingly visible under the low neckline of her dress as she approached.

_Eyes up, hands down_, he reminded himself, pressing his palms firmly into the floor.

"Don't get any ideas, man," Nate commented in a mock-threatening tone, chuckling as he took another long swallow of his drink.

The look in her eyes was wary, nervous almost, and he felt oddly compelled to reassure her.

"Don't worry Waldorf, I won't bite," he murmured.

He saw the corner of her mouth quirk upwards, right before it brushed against his.

Warm, and smooth, and petal-soft, her lips moved over his. It was the most innocent, and yet somehow the most arousing kiss he'd ever experienced. Her dainty mouth felt so delicate, so perfect, pressed against his own, that he wanted to capture this moment and hold on to it as long as possible.

Unable to resist the temptation, he traced along her upper lip with his tongue. He felt the breath catch in her throat at the unexpected contact, but she didn't pull away- instead, her lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip through and stroke lightly against her own.

For one long, stolen moment, their mouths remained fused together, their tongues just barely touching as they covertly explored each other. When she finally pulled back, releasing a trembling breath against his mouth, her cheeks were flushed with color, her deep brown eyes regarding him with surprise and confusion.

The entire exchange had lasted no more than a few seconds, but it left Chuck with a decidedly peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach... as well as a strong desire to grab her and do it again, despite the circle of classmates applauding and cheering around them.

Breaking eye contact, Blair made an exaggerated show of wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, prompting laughter from their audience. Nate, whom he belatedly remembered had been only five feet away the entire time, playfully reached over and poked him in the ribs, a broad grin on his face.

Chuck cleared his throat, assuming his trademark blasé expression, and moved towards the center of the circle.

He spun the bottle with a rapid flick of his wrist, watching it rotate more and more and slowly until it finally stopped- pointing directly at Dan.

Chuck smirked, giving him a slow up-and-down look. He wasn't actually unattractive, but God, those khakis were downright appalling.

"Well, I'm game," he drawled. "But only if you lose the pants first."

The look on the boy's face was so priceless, he could barely prevent himself from snickering out loud.

"He's just kidding," Serena hastily explained to Dan.

She shot Chuck a glare. "Right?"

Chuck shrugged and stood up, excusing himself to take a refreshment break.

Rummaging through the liquor cabinet until he found a bottle of scotch, he poured a generous amount into a crystal tumbler and took a long swig.

He didn't know what the hell had just happened back there, or what it was about Blair that seemed to get him so flustered – but he figured all he needed was a minute to clear his head and a good stiff drink.

Turning back around to observe the festivities, he watched as Dan finally got his chance in the middle of the circle.

He gave the bottle a very eager spin, watching intently as it rotated several dozen times. And just as it was completing its last revolution, finally slowing to a halt in Serena's direction, the loud jangle of a cell phone cut through the din of music and conversation.

"Oh, that's my phone! Keep playing, guys, I'll just be a minute." Serena jumped up, grabbing her phone off the table.

But without their fearless leader, the rest of the partygoers began chattering amongst themselves, their already limited attention spans soon disengaging from the game. Blair grabbed Nate by the hand and tugged him to his feet, whispering something into his ear. She steadfastly avoided Chuck's gaze as the pair brushed past him, which inexplicably bothered him.

Dan looked around in dismay as people began getting up and wandering off- he glanced down at the bottle, and then in the direction of Serena, the hope and anticipation still evident in his eyes.

Sauntering back over to the abandoned game, Chuck swirled the glass of scotch in his hand, eying its lone remaining player.

"Were you... waiting for me to come back?" he asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Looking genuinely afraid that he might be serious, Dan scrambled quickly to his feet, mumbling an excuse under his breath as he retreated towards the other room.

Chuck smirked, shaking his head in amusement.

Taking another sip of his drink, he noticed Blair and Nate on the other side of the room, deep in conversation. His stomach jumped into his throat as he realized what she could be telling him- a chaste, close-mouthed kiss for the purposes of a game was one thing, but slipping your best friend's girlfriend the tongue was something else entirely. He knew damn well that he'd crossed the boundaries of acceptable behavior, and he certainly had no excuse if Blair ratted him out to Nate. Somehow he doubted that "sorry man, your girlfriend turned me on so much I got a little carried away" was going to fly.

Suddenly, Blair looked over and met his gaze for one long moment, her deep chocolate eyes studying his expression but revealing nothing in return. Then she glanced back at Nate, fixing a bright smile onto her face and laughing gaily at whatever he'd just said.

Chuck understood the unspoken message. As far as Blair was concerned, that little kiss had never happened.

He should have felt relieved. He supposed he _was_ relieved.

But for some reason he couldn't begin to fathom, he was also disappointed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hope you enjoyed! I have a number of future chapters already planned out, but I'm definitely open to suggestions- so if there are any flashback-type scenes you have in mind, some pre-S1 CB interactions you've been dying to see, just let me know!

Thanks, as always, to my beta, smut coach, and comma-wrangler, Terrabeth. High-five for being awesome.

Thanks so much to my lovely reviewers, you guys make my day: Livelybass, GGfan73104, TerraBeth, OllieCullie, Rf, Arazadia, BCBass, smileyface2.0, Laura, Chair fan, CBfanhere, bowtie and headband, Leftwriter224, FrozenandYetNot, ggoddess, Lyla, Ladynet, Carolina, atomicseasoning, SaturnineSunshine, annablake, chaval, CBBW3Words8Letters, maryl, jsta, abelard, and Lsase.

And thank God for fanfic, because this show is desperately in need of some CB action right now, am I right?


	3. The Christmas Present

.

**Chapter 3: The Christmas Present**

**December 2006**

"Oh, they're just _perfect_," Blair said in a reverent tone. "Daddy really does have the most impeccable taste, doesn't he?"

Swiveling her head from side to side, she studied her reflection in the vanity mirror, her eyes alight with admiration.

Her new diamond earrings twinkled brilliantly in her earlobes; the small stones caught the muted bedroom lighting, refracting it into thousands of brightly-colored beams that danced across her neck and the tops of her shoulders.

"Very pretty, Miss Blair," Dorota confirmed with an affectionate smile.

After patting her young charge on the shoulder, the maid returned to the task at hand. There was a sizable mound of Christmas presents on the bed, which needed to be organized and tucked away in various drawers and chests and closets.

Selecting a soft cashmere scarf and matching gloves, Dorota carried them to the corner of Blair's closet that contained her outerwear accessories, meticulously organized by color.

"He got them at the most adorable little boutique in Paris," Blair continued with a happy sigh. "He promised to take me next time we're there. Spring break maybe? Paris is so beautiful in the spring…"

Shuffling back into the bedroom, Dorota retrieved a quilted leather Balenciaga, examining it carefully to determine whether it belonged with the "totes" or the "satchels."

"I just wish I had a matching pendant," Blair murmured, casting a critical eye over her bare neck. "Maybe I could go put one on hold tomorrow…"

She and Nate weren't exchanging gifts until Saturday, since he was spending the holidays at his grandfather's estate- but knowing him, he'd put off shopping until the very last minute.

And God knew he couldn't be trusted to pick out a gift on his own.

"Such a lovely dress not need any… embellishment," Dorota said dutifully.

Blair tilted her head to the side, contemplating her reflection.

Her dress, which she'd chosen especially for tonight, was a deep green velvet, accented by a belt of white ribbon that circled around her waist to form a bow at the center of her back. The boat-shaped neckline curved widely from the point of each shoulder, showing off her delicate collarbones and long neck. And she'd arranged her curls into a loose updo, with just a few strands strategically framing the glittering gems in her ears.

Dorota was right, she decided- you could never go wrong with simple and classic.

"Almost time for dinner, Miss Blair," the maid pointed out, with a quick glance at the bedside clock. "Your mother say guest arriving at 6pm."

Blair's satisfied smile vanished instantly.

"I don't understand why we even invited him," she groused, her mouth turning downwards into a frown. "Christmas dinner is always just the three of us. It's tradition."

"But two years ago, your grandparents-"

"It's _tradition_," Blair repeated, ignoring Dorota's interjection.

Taking another glance in the mirror, she smoothed her hands over her updo and tucked a wayward curl into place.

Daddy was just too nice, she thought to herself. Almost… pathologically nice. If it were up to him, they'd invite every hobo and indigent in the tri-state area over for Christmas dinner.

Which actually would've been preferable, she decided, to the person he'd invited instead.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"_I am not_…_ over-reacting. I just wish you had consulted me first, that's all."_

_Eleanor's voice rang out through the living room, and Blair paused at the top of the staircase, craning her neck forward to hear. _

"_I told you, I didn't have a chance," Harold replied, in the pacifying tone he always used when her mother was overreacting. "I knew he was leaving for Dubai, but he didn't mention until the end of the meeting that Chuck was staying in New York."_

"_The boy is fifteen years old, Harold, he doesn't need a babysitter."_

"_He's the same age as Blair," Harold countered. "And you wouldn't leave her alone on Christmas, would you?"_

"_Well, no, of course not…"_

_Blair almost snorted aloud at Eleanor's obviously insincere denial. _

"_I just told Bart that we'd be happy to have him over for dinner, and he said that was very thoughtful of us," Harold continued._

"_But we don't even have a gift for him," Eleanor pointed out. "You can't just invite someone over for Christmas and not-"_

"_I'm sure we can find something," Harold interjected, his voice still calm and placating. "It's not until tomorrow night, there's still plenty of time."_

_Even from fifteen feet away, Blair could hear her mother sigh. _

"_Well, it's fine with me," Eleanor finally conceded. "I just don't know if Blair will take it well. You know how… high-strung she gets about the holidays."_

"_Oh, don't worry about Blair," Harold replied cheerfully. "She and Chuck are friends, I'm sure she'll be thrilled."_

_._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

Blair was… definitely not thrilled.

The prospect of sharing her traditional family gathering with an outsider was bad enough. But sharing it with someone whose idea of a merry Christmas probably involved strippers in slutty Mrs. Claus outfits and a big bag of coke? Well, that was just downright sacrilegious.

She'd complained bitterly about the situation during her last phone conversation with Serena, who was spending the week in Copenhagen with Eric, Lily, and Lily's latest boyfriend.

Her best friend had shown little sympathy for her plight.

"Hey, I'd take Christmas in New York over pretty much anywhere else… Chuck Bass or no," Serena had commented, disguising her melancholy with a little chuckle.

But what Serena didn't know- because Blair had never volunteered the details- was the motivation behind her Chuck-avoidance policy.

Basically, ever since he'd molested her with his tongue during an ill-advised (or Serena-advised, same difference) game of Spin-the-bottle, she'd made a conscious effort to avoid being alone with him. Not because the kiss had been a big deal or anything- or because she still thought about it, ever- but because she wanted to make it clear to him that such perviness would not be tolerated.

He was just lucky there'd been dozens of onlookers present, she thought with an indignant sniff. Otherwise he would've gotten backhanded right across his smirking face.

But, despite her misgivings, she'd decided to put on a good show for her father's sake. She didn't want to disabuse him of the notion that his daughter was still the warm-hearted, compassionate little girl he imagined her to be.

The kind of girl who would welcome the disadvantaged, the indigent, and the… morally-depraved to dine with them, without so much as wrinkling her nose.

"Blair-bear, your friend is here!" Harold's voice echoed up from the living room.

Blair's eyes narrowed involuntarily.

"Coming, daddy!" she called back, smoothing one hand across the bodice of her dress.

She allowed herself one last annoyed sigh before rearranging her features into an expression of doe-eyed innocence. Then she rose to her feet and stepped gingerly around Dorota- who was still busy sorting through her mound of gifts- and headed down to join the festivities.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"There you are, dear," Eleanor commented as Blair made her way down the stairs. "We were wondering if you were going to make an appearance."

Blair frowned slightly, glancing over at the antique grandfather clock against the living room wall.

It was exactly three minutes past six.

"You look beautiful, sweetie," Harold greeted her with an affectionate smile.

She practically beamed in response, one hand reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

Her smile stiffened when the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival of their visitor- but she straightened her back and strode determinedly towards the foyer.

"Chuck!" she greeted him as he stepped out of the elevator, her voice brimming with exaggerated friendliness. "So wonderful of you to join us."

He raised an eyebrow at her feigned enthusiasm.

"Blair," he replied dryly, his lips quirking in a sardonic grin.

God, she hated when he looked at her like that. Like he found her… amusing.

Blair Waldorf was not amusing. She did not _amuse _people.

"Mr. Waldorf," he murmured politely in greeting. "Mrs. Waldorf."

"Chuck, good to see you again." Harold stepped forward, smiling amiably, and offered him a firm handshake.

"Charles," Eleanor chimed in with a perfunctory nod. "Won't you come in?"

Dorota bustled down the stairs and across the foyer to take Chuck's coat and scarf, as well as the bottle of wine he was carrying, which she handed off to Harold.

"Ah, the 2001 Latour, one of my favorites," Harold said approvingly, tracing one finger across the label. "We're actually having beef for the main course, this will go perfectly."

No one even batted an eye at a fifteen-year-old showing up with an eight hundred dollar bottle of wine- it was pretty much par for the course on the UES.

"Well, dinner will be served shortly," Harold commented, gesturing in the direction of the formal dining room. "Shall we?"

Blair turned to follow her parents, and Chuck fell into step beside her.

"You're looking very… festive, Waldorf," he observed in a low tone.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide if he was making fun of her.

"New earrings?"

Her hand automatically went up to graze against them.

"Yes, Daddy brought them back from Paris," she replied, her voice cool but polite.

"They suit you," he murmured.

His eyes trailed down the curve of her neck in a way that made her feel uncomfortably flushed.

"Thanks," she replied in a haughty tone, keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead as she walked.

But she couldn't help glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, just to assess his outfit in turn. He wore an argyle-patterned cashmere sweater- dark green with gray and white accents- over a white shirt and bowtie, and charcoal-colored trousers. In fact, it coordinated so well with her dress, it almost looked as though they'd planned it.

And she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Oh, look at how well you two match," Harold enthused, smiling fondly at them as he pulled out Eleanor's chair. "We'll have to take some pictures."

"Can't wait," Blair replied with a stiff smile of her own.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes when Chuck pulled out her own chair, the gentlemanly gesture not quite disguising the impudent glint in his eye.

But she channeled her inner Grace Kelly, smiling graciously as she took her seat and then folding her hands primly in her lap.

Chuck Bass was _not_ going to ruin her Christmas.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Oh, the potatoes dauphinoise are just divine," Eleanor said approvingly. "Alain really outdid himself this year."

Harold nodded in agreement, making an "mmm" noise as he chewed.

Blair pressed the tines of her fork into one buttery, cheesy slice of potato, and dragged it in a semi-circle around her plate.

Then slid it back to its original position.

She would have actually eaten a few bites, knowing they'd be delicious- perfectly tender and creamy, finished with the delicate aroma of white truffles- but Eleanor was watching her. No doubt counting the calories in every buttery, carbohydrate-laden morsel.

So Blair just continued moving the food around her plate.

Across, then back. Then across again.

She glanced over to the other side of the table, watching with mild annoyance as Chuck finished the last bite of his steak. He washed it down with a generous swig of bordeaux, and she found her eyes inexplicably drawn to his mouth as it pursed against the rim of his wine glass. His throat rippled as he swallowed, his tongue darting out to swipe an errant drop from his upper lip.

And suddenly- unwittingly- she recalled how it had felt tracing against her own.

Soft, sensual.

Provocative.

A rush of warmth flooded her face and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, chastising herself for thinking about something so inappropriate. She'd already decided to forget that it ever happened, and she didn't understand why her mind wasn't cooperating.

But she still hadn't looked away when his eyes lifted to meet hers, the sudden contact causing a tingle of electricity to run up her spine.

He tipped his glass towards her in a teasing salute; his eyebrows raised in amusement, as if he knew exactly what she'd been thinking about.

Which he couldn't possibly, she reassured herself. Chuck Bass was many things- a schemer, a pervert, a delinquent- but he was not a mind-reader.

So Blair just stared back haughtily, trying to will away the flush she could still feel staining her cheeks.

He took another long swallow of his wine. Then, in a slow, calculated motion, ran his tongue deliberately along his upper lip once again, his eyes never leaving hers.

Blair's eyes widened in disbelief- and then narrowed in barely-restrained outrage when Chuck concluded this series of gestures with an unrepentant smirk.

As if his very presence weren't already offensive enough, now he was going to act like a total lech in the middle of Christmas dinner?

Oh, hell no, she decided.

She would make Chuck Bass _rue_ the day he crashed her family's Christmas.

Realizing that her father was still speaking, she snapped back to attention when he asked Chuck something about his schoolwork.

"Fascinating as usual," Chuck replied in a tone that suggested the opposite.

Harold nodded with an indulgent little smile.

"Actually," Blair interjected, her eyes wide and innocent, "Chuck's been having a lot of trouble with his classes recently."

"Oh?" Harold raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, didn't you fail like three of your midterms?" she asked Chuck, her tone full of faux concern.

He just shrugged indifferently.

"Well, we can't all be valedictorian," he replied, a hint of mockery in his voice.

Clearly insulting his academic prowess wasn't going to get her anywhere, she decided. Not that that came as any sort of surprise.

"Maybe you could tutor him, Blair-bear," Harold suggested helpfully.

_Shit._

"Daddy, you're so thoughtful," she demurred, "but I'm sure Chuck wouldn't be interested in that…"

"Actually, I would be _very_ interested," Chuck countered, clearly enjoying watching her squirm.

She shot him a look of thinly-veiled contempt.

Honestly, she didn't know why Bart didn't just cut to the chase and hire hookers instead of tutors; based on past precedent, the outcome was pretty much the same.

"Tutoring doesn't seem very effective for your learning style," she replied in a saccharine tone. "Perhaps you should practice more… solo studying."

He chuckled appreciatively at the double entendre.

"But it's so much more fun as a group activity," he replied with a suggestive wink.

"Oh, Blair's always preferred working on her own," Harold commented, oblivious to the undercurrents of their conversation.

"Is that so?" Chuck's eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Yes, what's that you always say about group projects, sweetie?" Harold gave her a fond smile. "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."

Blair felt her cheeks burn as Chuck cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

"Yes, I'd imagine Nathaniel wouldn't be a lot of assistance in a… study session," he commented, a note of wicked humor in his voice.

At this point, she decided that Operation Get Rid of Chuck was not going as planned. He seemed impervious to public embarrassment, and far more skilled than she at navigating a minefield of pervy double entendres.

Not to mention, that smug grin on his face was really starting to piss her off.

Time to regroup and plan her next move.

She plotted silently, pushing the potatoes around her plate with considerably more force than before. In the meantime, her parents began to discuss some of their upcoming social obligations.

"Of course, it's going to be terribly awkward with both Randall and Felicia there." Eleanor sighed. "It's only been two months since the divorce, and apparently it was _not_ an amicable one."

Blair's ears perked up.

"Oh right, the Middletons," she mused, tilting her head to the side in feigned contemplation. "Why did they split up again? Something about… infidelity…"

"He came home early from a business trip and caught her in bed with someone else," Eleanor said with a snort of disgust. "Randall was… absolutely devastated, of course."

Blair widened her eyes in exaggerated horror.

"Oh no, that's awful," she said, shaking her head sadly.

She glanced over at Chuck, noting with satisfaction that his smug grin had disappeared.

"I wonder if it was anyone we know…" she added curiously.

"Well, he didn't say- just that he managed to get in a few good punches before the guy grabbed his pants and made a run for it," Eleanor said with a trace of vindictive amusement in her voice.

"Good for Randall," Blair commented, her voice matching her mother's.

Chuck said nothing, only a slight tensing of his jaw showing any reaction.

Harold fell oddly silent as well, she noticed, his attention suddenly fixed on his food. She frowned for a moment before mentally dismissing the observation.

"Come to think of it…" Blair pursed her lips as she studied the dark-haired boy across the table. "Didn't you come to school with a black eye a few months ago, Chuck?"

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, looking more annoyed than amused now.

"How on earth did that happen?" she asked innocently.

"Walked into a door," he said in a terse voice, his stare almost daring her to contradict him.

"Oh, how clumsy of you." Blair smiled brightly.

An awkward silence fell over the table for a few moments; it was clear that everyone understood the subtext of their exchange this time.

Quite frankly, she was surprised that was the first time Chuck had been caught by an angry husband. If there was one thing she knew about his sexual escapades, it was that he didn't discriminate based on marital status.

Or anything else, for that matter.

"Yes, well…" Harold cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Maybe on to more… cheerful topics?"

Blair took a sip of her own wine, taking a certain spiteful satisfaction in Chuck's obvious unease.

"So Charles… how was your Thanksgiving?" Eleanor asked politely.

"Oh yes, your father mentioned you two went to Puerto Vallarta," Harold said in an affable tone. "It must be beautiful down there this time of year."

Chuck opened his mouth to reply, but Blair cut him off.

"Not really the more cheerful topic you were going for, Daddy," she said with a little laugh. "Bart having to bribe Chuck out of jail isn't exactly a heartwarming holiday story."

Taken aback, both of her parents turned to look at her- Eleanor pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth and Harold looking as though his eyebrows were going to climb right off his forehead.

"Although, you can't really blame him. I mean, who knew drug possession was even illegal in Mexico?" she went on blithely.

"Blair," Harold interjected in a warning tone.

"So it's probably for the best that Bart left him in New York," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Because I have not heard _anything_ good about the correctional facilities in Dubai-"

"_Blair_," Eleanor admonished her sharply.

Realizing that she'd gone too far, Blair fell silent, her stomach sinking at the consternation and embarrassment on her parents' faces.

Chuck was just staring at her in silence, every trace of amusement vanished from his stony expression.

"Perhaps you should go down to the kitchen and check on dessert, dear?" her mother suggested, her tone leaving no room for protest.

Blair's mouth tightened into a flat line as she understood her implication- Eleanor wanted her to leave the room so she could apologize to Chuck for her daughter's outrageous behavior.

"Fine," she said haughtily.

Her chair scraped against the floor as she rose to her feet, threw down her napkin, and stalked out, feeling tears of frustration burning the rims of her eyes.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Several minutes later, Blair was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a furious expression on her face. She was supposedly "supervising" the kitchen staff as they organized the dessert service, but they were just skittering around her like frightened little mice, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Suddenly a door swung open behind her, and the servants scurried out of the line of fire as Chuck strode into the kitchen.

"Are you on your period or something, Waldorf?" he said immediately, cutting right to the chase.

Blair's mouth dropped open at his audacity.

"How dare you-" she began in an imperious tone.

"Just trying to figure out why you're being even more of a bitch than usual, that's all," he shot back, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he stared at her.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't be, if you'd quit acting like a degenerate pervert right in front of my parents," she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chuck just rolled his eyes.

"Look, I get the whole uptight princess routine, but I didn't realize you'd completely lost the ability to take a joke," he replied in a sardonic tone.

"Oh, so now it's _my _fault that I don't find your offensive behavior hilarious?"

"It's never bothered you before," he pointed out.

Then he paused, his eyes narrowing on her flushed face.

"So you want to tell me what's really going on here?"

Her breath caught in her throat when his gaze lingered over her expression.

As if he could see straight through her.

Straight through to all of the thoughts she wasn't supposed to be thinking, to all of the mixed-up feelings evoked by his presence.

Anger. Resentment. Even jealousy, because Christmas was the one night per year that Blair Waldorf was guaranteed both of her parents' undivided attention- and here was Chuck Bass, making small talk with Harold and Eleanor over the Chateaubriand.

And then there was another feeling, one she was reluctant to even identify. Something deeper, darker. Something that, if she didn't know much, much better, she'd almost think was… desire.

It wasn't, of course. That was probably just… Chuck's debauchery rubbing off on her. An unfortunate side effect of that one meaningless, insignificant little kiss.

Hopefully that was the only thing she'd caught, she thought with a tinge of disgust.

"Or," Chuck continued, still looking at her, "maybe you could at least explain why you're suddenly bitching out on me for no reason?"

"No reason?" Blair repeated in disbelief. Indignation surged within her, quickly becoming the most prominent in her flurry of emotions.

Chuck prompted her to continue with an uncomprehending raise of his eyebrows.

"You're not even supposed to _be here_," she burst out, her words ringing through the now-empty kitchen. "This is _my_ family, _my_ Christmas. Daddy only invited you because he felt sorry for you."

She could've sworn she saw a flash of hurt in his dark eyes, a small chink in his otherwise stoic expression.

But it disappeared in an instant, replaced by icy indifference.

"Well, not to worry, Princess," he said coldly. "As soon as I can get out of here, I will. And you'll have your _perfect family_ all to yourself again."

With that, he turned and strode out of the kitchen, leaving the door swinging behind him.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Blair made it back upstairs just in time to hear Chuck making some excuse to her parents about needing to leave.

"But thank you for dinner," he said politely. "Everything was delicious."

"You should at least stay for dessert," Harold cajoled him. "Alain made his famous buche de noel, it's one of Blair's favorites. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

He gave Blair an expectant look, clearly urging her to remedy her previous rude behavior.

"Yes, it's… really amazing." She cleared her throat, giving Chuck a look that- while not quite apologetic- was significantly softer than before. "You can't leave without trying it," she added earnestly.

He said nothing in response, and she felt her stomach tighten anxiously; she knew how disappointed her father would be if Chuck left because of her.

"Please?" she added in a beseeching tone.

Left with no other option, Chuck nodded in reluctant assent and followed them into the living room.

The room was still lit up with Christmas decorations: the lights on the tree twinkled in one corner, monogrammed stockings hung from the mantel over the fireplace, and the lilting melody of Christmas carols played in the background.

The staff was setting out coffee service and after-dinner drinks, as well as a china platter bearing the elaborately-frosted roulade. Chocolate buttercream adorned the outside, patterned into a bark-like texture, and the entire confection was embellished with powdered sugar snow, merengue mushrooms, and fresh raspberries.

As always, Blair settled in to her place on the sofa to watch as the dessert was plated, slipping her shoes off and tucking her feet up underneath her. Her parents sat in their adjacent armchairs, sipping on glasses of port and discussing their pre-opera plans for that weekend.

Chuck sat quietly on the opposite end of the sofa, one leg propped up on the opposite knee. He kept his eyes averted whenever Blair glanced over at him, and she noticed a certain tension in his jaw that hadn't been present earlier.

She frowned, unaccustomed to the pang of regret in her chest.

She knew she hadn't hurt Chuck's feelings- as if that were even possible- but she didn't want him to be pissed at her either. After all, he was her boyfriend's best friend… and, for all his faults, she supposed she considered him one of her own as well. That made him a member of a very select coterie, of which he was probably the only one who'd be willing to hide a body for her.

Should that ever prove necessary.

She shot another sidelong glance at him, watching as he studied the ornately-decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

"Do you like it?" she asked finally.

Chuck shot her a questioning look.

"The tree," she clarified. "I decorated it myself."

She could practically feel Dorota rolling her eyes from across the room.

Fine- so she'd _supervised_ the decorating while Dorota perched precariously atop a step ladder, moving garlands and silver balls and ornaments around in response to her commands. Still, the creative vision was all hers.

"Yes, it's very… tasteful," Chuck said dryly, eying the perfectly color-coordinated trimmings.

Blair nodded in satisfaction.

Seeing his brow furrow, she followed his gaze to a lone mismatched ornament hanging near the bottom of the tree.

"Oh!" She jumped to her feet with an excited smile. "Do you remember when we made these?"

Retrieving the ornament from the tree, she brought it back over for Chuck's inspection. It was a reindeer made out of two wooden clothespins glued together and painted brown. Its googly eyes were slightly askew, and a red and white Santa hat was glued atop its "head," along with a loop of fine gold thread to hang it from.

"In preschool," she prompted him. "Remember, we made them as Christmas presents for our parents?"

"Oh, right." Chuck smiled wryly, turning the ornament over in his hand.

"Daddy insists on putting it on the tree every year, even though it doesn't match at all," she said with feigned exasperation- but was unable to suppress a smile when Harold winked at her from across the room.

"I'm guessing Bart doesn't put your embarrassing childhood art projects on your Christmas tree?" she said over her shoulder as she bent down to reposition the ornament.

"We're not allowed to have trees at the Palace." Chuck said absently, his eyes following her movements.

Blair's forehead crinkled. "Doesn't your father…own the hotel?"

Chuck shrugged.

"He's a stickler for his own rules, I guess."

"But how could he not allow people to have Christmas trees?" she asked, aghast. The idea was unfathomable to her.

"Fire hazard, or so he says." He shrugged again. "He's nothing if not practical."

"That is just… horrible," she decided, giving an appalled little shake of her head as she rose to her feet and rejoined him on the sofa.

Chuck's mouth quirked in a resigned sort of way.

"At least he doesn't pretend to be something he's not," he said impassively.

Following Chuck's gaze towards her parents, she felt herself prickle in defense.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, keeping her voice down so Harold and Eleanor wouldn't notice. Though that was doubtful anyway, judging from the amount of port they'd already consumed…

Chuck glanced back at her and opened his mouth to reply, but appeared to think better of it.

"Nothing," he murmured. "Never mind."

She was about to question him further when they were interrupted by Dorota handing out dessert plates.

They ate quietly for a few moments, the only sounds "mmm"s of enjoyment. Blair cut her slice into tiny bite-sized pieces: this was one of the few occasions when she allowed herself to indulge in something so decadent, so she wanted to savor it for as long as possible.

"Oh Chuck, before I forget-" Harold rose to his feet, retrieving something from the mantel. "We wanted to give you a little something."

He held out a small box, wrapped in shiny red paper and topped with a gilt-trimmed ribbon.

Chuck looked taken aback, his brow furrowing in puzzlement as he stared at it.

"Oh, but… I didn't…" he began, sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

"Nonsense," Harold dismissed his hesitations with a wave of his hand. "Merry Christmas, Chuck."

He held the gift out until Chuck took it, turning it over in his hand several times before tugging the ribbon undone.

Blair watched him open it, wondering to herself why the sight seemed so incongruous.

It occurred to her that she'd never actually seen Chuck open a present. Unlike the rest of her classmates, she couldn't recall him ever having a birthday party; in fact, she wasn't even certain when his birthday was.

Finally divesting the gift of its wrapping, Chuck flipped open the hinged box inside to reveal a handsome silver money clip, its brushed metal surface decorated with an embossed filigree pattern.

Blair recognized it immediately as having come from her parents' gift closet- a selection of generic presents they kept on hand for unexpected houseguests and last minute events.

"I know most of you kids only carry plastic nowadays," Harold said with a self-deprecating smile. "But classic accessories never go out of style."

Chuck was silent for a moment, running his thumb along the edge of the box.

"It's… very nice," he said at last.

He stared at the gift for a moment longer before he appeared to regain his bearings. He looked back up at them and cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he said gruffly.

"Oh, it was our pleasure," Harold said blithely, gesturing to Dorota to refill his brandy. "We're just so happy you could join us."

The conversation quickly moved on to other topics- Blair happily reminisced about some of her favorite holiday vacations over the years, while her parents smiled indulgently and chimed in with anecdotes of their own.

But she couldn't help stealing glances at the dark-eyed boy sitting beside her. He remained quiet except for the occasional comment or chuckle, and seemed content to simply sit back and listen to their conversation.

Probably because all that awaited him at home was an empty hotel room.

For some reason, that realization produced an odd twinge of emotion in her chest. She chose not to identify it, although it was most certainly not sadness. Or remorse, for that matter.

It was just the holidays, she decided- they always made her so sentimental.

Which was probably why, when Chuck finally bid them goodnight an hour or so later, she actually got up to walk him to the elevator.

They stood side by side in the foyer as he shrugged into his wool overcoat, carefully tucking his gift into its front pocket.

"Well, thanks for coming," she said with a bright smile. "And, uh, about before-"

"Don't mention it, Waldorf," He shrugged off her intended apology. "I'm sure you can figure out a way to make it up to me later," he added suggestively, giving her a teasing smirk.

She just rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

In doing so, however, her gaze caught on a decoration that was dangling from the foyer archway.

Chuck's eyes followed hers upwards- to the mistletoe hanging directly over their heads- then flicked back down to meet hers again.

The two of them regarded each other in silence for a moment before Chuck cleared his throat.

"Better not," he murmured with a wry twist of his lips. "Nathaniel might catch wind of our… sordid affair."

She smiled back, breathing a silent sigh of relief that things seemed to be back to normal between them.

At that moment, the elevator announced its arrival with a muted _ding_. Chuck draped his scarf around the collar of his coat and retrieved a pair of leather gloves from the inner pocket, before glancing back up at her.

Acting more on instinct than prudence, Blair leaned in to give him a friendly hug goodbye.

His shoulders tensed in surprise as she placed her hands on them- but he recovered quickly, sliding his hands around her back and enveloping her in his arms in return.

Blair felt herself flush at the feeling of his body pressed so closely to hers, the warmth of his hands palpable even through the heavy fabric of her dress. With a soft clearing of her throat, she pulled away, hoping the dim lighting would disguise the pink tint of her cheeks.

"Merry Christmas, Chuck," she said softly.

He stepped into the elevator and turned around, his dark eyes regarding her with an unfathomable expression.

"Merry Christmas, Blair," Chuck echoed, as the doors slid closed.

.

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**A/N:** So… long time no update, I know, I know. I've had some writer's block recently and decided to work on this story as a reprieve… and of course it ended up twice as long as I intended. But anyway, hope you enjoyed :) As always, thoughts/opinions/encouragement are much appreciated.

Thanks to Terrabeth for polishing this up for me- and to Tati for offering her own beta services while TB was out of the country, although it turns out I write so slowly that I didn't have to take her up on it, hah.

And thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I heart you guys: Abelard, Arazadia, annablake, fiona249, AquarianAir, Ariana Grey, ggloverxx19, LeftWriter224, maryl, bfan, Rf, Lsase, Italiapen112, ellibells, chaval, chair4everxoxo, theghostqueen, chadyuck, Nyx Underwood, notoutforawalk, Mademoiselle Bass, furygrrl, GGfan73104, jsta, louboutinlove, Chair fan, Terrabeth, SaturnineSunshine, tHe dAily ScRibbLeR, aliceeeebeth, Clair Carlyle, Lily, svenjen, Chelsey, missbabyv, veniceinbandw, _and_ fanny0997.


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